


Basketball and Bloody Noses

by byericacameron



Series: Canon AU [1]
Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: M/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byericacameron/pseuds/byericacameron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick has gotten very good at living by the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," expectations of military life, but every once in a while he meets someone who completely throws him off balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Basketball and Bloody Noses

**Camp Lejeune, 1997**

If Ty didn’t stop smirking at him, Nick was going to end up doing something stupid. Punching him and kissing him were both vying for first pick right about now. The fact that they were both sweaty and shirtless and had spent the last two hours one-upping each other on the basketball court on base did not make it any easier to resist the urge to plant one on him.

One  _what_  was the part still up for debate.

“C’mon, Irish,” Ty taunted. “Your game is slippin fast. What? Too much for you?”

Punching him it was. Or something close to it anyway.

Nick slammed his shoulder into Ty’s chest and swiped the basketball from his hands, turning and making a perfect shot from halfway across the court.

“Oh-ho. It’s that kind of game now, is it?” Ty was looking up at Nick from the pavement where he’d landed. His gaze was steady and considering. Calculating. Fuck. Nick knew he was in trouble now. Ty was always dangerous—in more than one way—when his eyes lit up like that. He pushed himself to his feet, looking over his shoulder to check for injuries on his back. The whole time he was nodding his head slightly. “All right. All right. We can play it like that if you want.”

“Just remember that you started it, Beaumont.”

“First naming now? That’s low, O.” Ty picked up the ball and spun it on the tip of his index finger for a second. “Now you’re playing dirty. You won’t like it if I sink to your level.” 

“Bring it, Jarhead.”

“C’mon. You know you can’t say Jar. Or car. Or room.” Ty dribbled the ball, his evil grin growing wider with each thud. “C’mon, Irish. Juh-arrrrrrrr.”

Nick ignored the barbs about his accent—he’d heard them more times than he could count and from people who meant it in a far worse way than Ty ever would. Instead, he concentrated on the ball and the rhythmic thunk against the court. In a normal game he’d be able to time it right and swipe the ball out of midair. But this was Ty. A Ty he’d intentionally antagonized to the point of no return.

Ty had a plan and Nick knew he was about to step into it. But he’d gotten to know how Ty thought too. They’d been one step away from attached at the hip since day one and that had given Nick plenty of moments of insight into Beaumont Tyler Grady’s twisted mind.

As soon as Nick reached for the ball, Ty feinted right like Nick had thought he would. Nick’s arm shot out and swiped the ball mid bounce before he jetted down the court. Ty was barely a step behind him. Then half a step. Then so close Nick could feel his panting breaths on his neck.

Nick raised his arms to shoot, but saw Ty’s hand come up to knock the ball off course. Changing directions, he gripped the ball tight and spun to the side, out from under Ty’s reach.

That’s when Nick’s eyes locked with someone else’s. A blond guy on the edge of the court. Lean and compact, the guy was leaning against the chain-link fence and watching the game with avid interest. The short green PT trunks showcased thighs twined with muscle and golden-tan skin and his sweat-dampened green shirt clung to his abs like fine silk. Wet silk. This guy was gorgeous, cut, and smiling Nick’s way.

Nick only looked for a second, but a second was all Tyler needed. Before Nick knew it, the ball was gone, his vision swam with spot of color, and he was lying on his back trying to focus on the clouds far above him.

“Nice landing.” Ty laughed way too hard as he leaned over Nick’s prone form. “Not so lucky today, huh, Lucky?”

“Fuck off, Tyler.” Nick lifted his hand to gently touch his face. Even the slight pressure of his fingers brushing under his nose sent jolts of pain through his head. His hand came away bloody. “Aw hell.”

“You all right?”

The blond from the sidelines. Had to be. Nick closed his eyes and wished himself away. Like that had ever worked. “I’m fine. Just bleedin’.”

“Let me take a look.” Shadows fell over his closed lids and Nick opened his eyes. To stare into the most captivating hazel-blue-green eyes he’d ever seen. Seriously. What color were they? It seemed like they were changing even as he watched. “You took that hit pretty hard. At least let me check it out.”

“Rather go get prodded by someone with a degree in making people medically miserable, thanks.”

Nick tried to roll to his side, but the guy put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. “As luck would have it, I have one of those.”

Ty—the fucker—was still laughing. “Just shut up and let the kid look at your face, O.”

“Kid,” the stranger muttered, rolling his eyes.  

“Man, you look like you’d get carded buying bubble gum,” Ty retorted.

“All right, old man.” The guy smirked, his attention never wavering from Nick’s face.

Above them, Ty chuckled. “Nice. What’s your name, kid?”

“Kelly Abbott.” Kelly still didn’t look away from Nick and Nick was starting to feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the sunbaked concrete under him. “Pain on a scale of one to ten?”

“It is obvious you have never met O’Flaherty before,” Ty said before Nick had a chance to answer. Nick found himself wishing Ty would go away. He doubted Kelly batted for both teams, but Nick couldn’t even  _try_  to flirt under Tyler Grady’s too-observant eyes. “Nick ‘I feel nothing I’m fine’ O’Flaherty here does not admit to having an owwie. Ever.”

Ty was a force. Hell, it was one of the things that had sucked Nick in that first day. People listened to Ty. They gravitated him. Tyler Grady was not one who could be ignored.

Kelly Abbott was obviously made of sterner stuff than most. He smiled at Ty’s comment, but his attention stayed on Nick. Entirely on Nick.

It took Nick a couple of seconds to realize that Kelly really was waiting for an answer.

“Three. Maybe.”

Before he said a word, Kelly’s smirk called Nick a liar. “Try again.”

Nick let himself wince. “Five.” 

“Damn, kid.” Ty whistled. “I’m impressed. Did you drug him already? He usually only admits to shit like that when he’s flyin’ high.”

“If it’s only at a five I really am impressed with your pain tolerance.” Kelly expertly examined Nick’s nose and his cheekbones, peering into Nick’s eyes so intensely Nick was about half a second away to saying fuck-all to the consequences, grabbing the guy, and finding out what his lips tasted like. When Kelly smiled down at him, that urge got even stronger. “You already realize it’s broken, right?”

“Nah. Bruised and bloody. I know broken.” Nick had  _way_  too much experience with broken. “This ain’t broken.”

Kelly cocked his head and Nick got the feeling that he’d read more into Nick’s words than he’d intended. Whatever inkling Kelly might have gleaned, he said nothing. At least, not about that. “Want me to set that little wiggly bit that shouldn’t be there then?”

Fuck. Nick closed his eyes. He’d hoped Kelly has missed the—what had he called it?—the wiggly bit. “Yeah. Might as well. Since you’re here.”

“Hold your breath, Nicko.”

That was all the warning Kelly gave him before those nimble fingers pressed in exactly the right—or wrong—spot. Nick’s mouth snapped shut so fast he sliced through the inside of his cheek. Mouth filling with blood, Nick swallowed that and the bile that rose from the pain that flooded his head.

“Still with me?” Kelly’s voice somehow filtered through the haze.

Nick tried to suck in a breath and choked. A strong, sure, comfortable set of hands shifted under Nick’s shoulders and sat him up quick, making sure he wasn’t bent over his own legs so he didn’t spit blood on his shorts. When he’d finally managed to clear his mouth and take a normal breath, Nick nodded.

“I’m good.”

Kelly grinned. “I’m sure you say that to all the guys you bleed on.”

For a split second Nick’s muddy brain filled a couple of different words into Kelly’s sentence. His mind nearly short-circuited at the images  _that_ produced. Holy fuck. Words like that and a grin like his should be considered lethal weapons.

“Most of the guys O bleeds on are dead,” Ty said as he knelt next to Nick. “Or wishing they were.”

Kelly snorted and Nick rolled his eyes, lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe the worst of the blood off his face. For the first time since he’d noticed Kelly, Nick was kind of glad of Ty’s presence. He really had been a heartbeat away from doing something stupid. Like kissing the kid or—worse—asking him on a date. Nick had strict rules in place about even looking at the guys he served with. Kelly made him think about crossing every single one of those lines.

“You really all right, Irish?” Ty asked, his eyes serious for once.

“Don’t go all mother hen on me, Tyler,” Nick drawled. “I’m fine.”

The concern and every trace of seriousness dropped away from his friend’s face. “Fucking miserable excuse for a Recon is what you are, O’Flaherty. Can’t even dodge an elbow in a pickup game.”

Kelly’s eyes widened and his smile grew. “You guys are Recon? Have you been stationed here long?”

Ty glanced at Nick, amusement in his eyes. “A short while, yeah. Why?”

“You know the Sidewinder team? I’m supposed to meet up with them tomorrow. I’m their corpsman.”

“No shit?” Ty said.

All Nick could think was,  _Oh shit_.

Ty laughed. “Nick, we finally get our very own Devil Doc!” He slapped Nick’s shoulder just hard enough to make noise without actually knocking him off balance. “And he already knows what a freaking baby you are when you’ve got a boo-boo, so you won’t have to worry about scaring him off later.”  

“Welcome to the insanity, Kelly.” Nick grinned and held out his hand for his new brother-in-arms to shake, but inside he was busy taking the last half hour, folding it up tight, locking it in a box, and burying it far,  _far_  in his subconscious. It didn’t matter what he thought he’d seen in Kelly’s eyes or how nice it had felt to have someone’s full attention like he’d had Kelly’s. He was a member of his team and that trumped everything. It made him untouchable.

His crush on Ty was bad enough. Nick refused to let himself lust after the Devil Doc, too. 


End file.
